Desolation
by rinzlerkitty
Summary: Bilbo's luck finally runs out when he's captured by Smaug the Terrible. Instead of killing him, the dragon chooses instead to keep the hobbit. Frightened and abused, Bilbo either has to come to terms with his punishment or find a way to escape.
1. Chapter 1

**THIS FIC CONTAINS NONCON AND OTHER TRIGGERS. You have been warned. This sort of started out as a complete crack pairing thanks to Martin Freeman as Bilbo and Benedict Cumberbatch as Smaug, but it turned into something a lot more serious. The italicized paragraphs at the beginning are direct quotes from J. R. R. Tolkien's **_**The Hobbit**_**. In case you're interested, it comes from chapter twelve, "Inside Information". If you're wondering what Smaug looks like, I got my inspiration from this fanart on 4chan. NWS and I'm not sure who to credit them to. If you know, please tell me. Thanks! images. images. **

"_I might have guessed it," said Bilbo. "Truly there can nowhere be found the equal of Lord Smaug the impenetrable. What magnificence to possess a waistcoat of fine diamonds!"_

"_Yes, it is rare and wonderful indeed," said Smaug, absurdly pleased. The dragon rolled over. "Look!" he said. "What do you say to that?"_

"_Dazzlingly marvelous! Perfect! Flawless! Staggering!" exclaimed Bilbo aloud._

_After he had seen that Mr. Baggins' one idea was to get away. "Well, I really must not detain Your Magnificence any longer," he said, "or keep you from much needed rest. Ponies take some catching, I believe, after a long start. And so do burglars," he added as a parting shot, as he darted back and fled._

Most unfortunately for the young hobbit, he had anything but a long start, and Smaug had been expecting trickery. There was an enormous poof of red smoke, and the fire drake vanished from his bed of gold, reappearing just in front of the tunnel that lead to safety. His appearance, however, had changed. Instead of the enormous beast that had vanquished Dale in a single day, he had shrunk somewhat to the size of a man. Horns were mounted atop his head amidst black hair, his body coated with dark red scales, and his wings flared menacingly to the side, his wingspan enough to make even the great Eagles envious. His face was that of a man's, with high cheekbones and a prominent nose.

For dragons, you see, possess their own type of magic, a very rare and somewhat weak ability, but just enough for them. Poor Bilbo was caught completely off guard, running straight into the dragon and falling on his back. The magic ring slipped from his finger, clinking as it bounced into an enormous pile of gold coins. With a sinking heart, the hobbit knew that he would never see the little band of gold again.

He had other things to worry about just at this moment, however. The humanoid Smaug stood before him, his wicked black eyes shining with delight. Bilbo was very much visible to him now.

"Barrel-rider," he hummed. His eyes never left the little hobbit. "And what, pray tell, are you? Certainly no Man or Elf, but nor are you Dwarf, or Orc, or Goblin." Bilbo was too frightened to respond. Smaug grinned a toothy grin, a clawed hand stroking his cheek.

"Speak, Thief, or I shall have your tongue right out of your mouth."

All Bilbo's clever words had left him. It was all he could do to stutter out words, let alone a lie. "H-hobbit," he squeaked. "I'm a hobbit."

A puff of smoke escaped from Smaug's nostrils, and he continued his terrible smile, now pacing circles around his prey. Bilbo debated escape, but his legs were shaking too much beneath him and he doubted he could get far without the drake catching him. Not that it mattered much. He supposed Smaug would eat him up all the same.

"I have never tried hobbit before," the dragon said thoughtfully, his tail dragging behind him. "Though you wouldn't make much more than a morsel, however tasty you may be."

Not for the first time, Bilbo thought for his armchair by the fire, with the tea kettle whistling merrily. He wished to be anywhere else, even deep in the heart of the Misty Mountains with all the goblins and nasty creatures there. To think, he had gotten this far, only to die like this. He swallowed. He hadn't thought to say a proper farewell to any of the dwarves. He much doubted he would get the chance now.

Smaug had stopped pacing, and was looking over the hobbit in such a way that made him very uncomfortable. Something finalized in those dark, cruel eyes and Bilbo's heart leapt into his throat. _He's decided what to do with me._

"Perhaps there are other uses for hobbits," Smaug purred. There was a flash of movement, and before Bilbo could make sense of anything he was flat on his back on the cold floor, the half-man, half-beast crouched on his chest, leaning over him. Bilbo shuddered as a long, red tongue flickered across his cheek, tasting him.

"What's wrong, little thief? I had _so _enjoyed our conversation. It has, after all, been some time since I have had company."

The hobbit tried to speak or squirm out from beneath him, but the dragon held him firmly. "You should have never stolen from me," Smaug informed him. Something sharp pricked at Bilbo's chest, and he realized with a thrill of horror that the dragon was slicing right through his shirt with a sharp claw.

"Thieves ought to be punished."

A burst of flame from Smaug's nostrils, and Bilbo's shirt was nothing but ashes. His heart was racing as his trousers too were stripped away and incinerated. Cheeks red with shame, the hobbit tried his best to slip out of his opponent's grasp, but there was nothing for it. Smaug was much too strong, even in his half-dragon shape as he was.

"Shh…it'll only be worse if you struggle."

Bilbo trembled uncontrollably as he felt that wicked tongue again, closing his eyes as tightly as he could and trying to imagine none of this was happening. It lapped over his body, focusing on the sensitive little nubs on his chest. Despite himself, it wasn't long before the hobbit's nipples were flushed and hard.

He couldn't watch. It was easier to pretend nothing was happening, though the hot breath on his skin and the tongue along with it had his body reacting. Blood rushed south, his limp member starting to stir with unwanted arousal. A cry of frustration burst from his lips and he struggled desperately.

"Open your eyes, little hobbit," the dragon insisted, and although Bilbo did his best to fight it, his eyelids flickered open. The spell of the dragon was taking hold of him.

"Please," he whispered. "Please let me go. _Please._"

Smaug smiled, his tongue brushing across the hobbit's cheek in an almost affectionate way. He was positioning Bilbo's body now, his tail lashing this way and that as he nudged his legs apart. "Thieves must be punished," he explained, in the voice a parent would use with a naughty child. "How will you learn your lesson if it is not taught to you?"

Bilbo whimpered as a black claw traced down his body. Death was better than this. He took back all his thoughts from earlier. He would rather be roasted alive than this. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I won't ever steal again, never ever. I'm a rubbish burglar anyway, please. K-kill me, I deserve it."

The dragon listened to his plea, an unreadable look on his strange Man face. "I am sure I will kill you eventually," he said finally. "Though not just yet."

He was about to start on a fresh argument, but Smaug was tired of listening. Bilbo felt something brush where it certainly shouldn't, and a moment later he knew nothing but searing pain. He cried out and struggled and sobbed, but the thief's misery brought the wyrm nothing but dark pleasure. Forcing the hobbit's legs apart further, he plunged inside him. Bilbo screamed, his nails scraping desperately at the stone floor. His poor body had never been abused like this, and he was incredibly tight around Smaug's large cock. The dragon thrummed in pleasure, smoke issuing out of his nostrils.

A few rough thrusts, and there was enough blood to ease the slide of muscle. Bilbo was sobbing and panting for breath, his body trembling with revulsion as he felt Smaug stretch out his insides far more than they were meant to stretch. He wanted to look away, to close his eyes, but he found for some reason that he just couldn't. He watched with horror as the beast took him, using and abusing his body with rough movements and pleasured groans. Faster he moved, impaling the poor hobbit deep and making him cry out even louder. There was a flicker of pleasure with each hard thrust for Bilbo, but the sensation disgusted him and he focused instead on the agonizing pain of his body stretching around the intrusion.

It felt like years before Smaug had fulfilled his pleasure. Bilbo's screams had died down to uncontrollable sobbing when he felt the dragon release, which triggered a fresh scream and a spasm from the hobbit. He was half-delirious with the pain, and even when Smaug left him be with a satisfied hum and a stroke of his tongue across the hobbit's cheek, Bilbo could still feel the enormous thing inside him. He curled up on his side, shivering from cold and revulsion, still crying into the cold stone. It was a long time before darkness finally took him.


	2. Chapter 2

Sending the hobbit was the natural thing to do. He was the burglar, the smallest, the quietest, and most of all, he'd volunteered to scope out the dragon's lair. Thorin Oakenshield, future King Under the Mountain, paced anxiously just outside the stone door that lead into the mountain. Bilbo had saved his life on several occasions now, and he'd grown very fond of him.

"We should have never sent him in on his own," Thorin growled to Balin. "Not now that Smaug has woken."

Balin gestured to Kili, who was admiring the gold cup that Bilbo had pilfered. "Have faith in him, Thorin. He did manage to steal from under Smaug's nose, and he has that magnificent magic ring. He'll be just fine, laddie."

The mention of the ring did bring some comfort to the prince. Even a dragon would be unable to see the hobbit with the ring on. Bilbo would be fine.

A terrible scream echoed up from the passageway, and Thorin's blood ran cold.

"Bilbo," he murmured, and would have charged down after him if Fili and Kili hadn't held him back.

"There's nothing we can do," Balin said quietly, and deep in his heart, Thorin knew he was right. Even if he did manage to get to the hobbit in time, Smaug would simply kill two rather than one.

He sunk to his knees in front of the tunnel, listening to Bilbo's screams and hating himself.

X

If Thorin had thought the screaming was bad, it was even worse when it stopped. It had only lasted a few minutes, which was, in all honesty, much shorter than he'd anticipated. If Smaug the Terrible was to catch a thief, he would drag his death out much longer.

Fili, apparently, was thinking the same.

"Maybe he's not dead," the younger dwarf suggested, uneasy.

Thorin nodded slowly. There could be a chance. And even if Bilbo was dead, Thorin was determined to at least give him a proper burial. They could at least try to retrieve his body.

There was a cry from the watchmen below of "dragon!" and the dwarves sprang into action. Thorin shepherded them into the mountain, waiting until everyone else was inside before joining them and sliding the stone door shut. It was dark and the air was thin, but it was far better than outside. They could hear the terrified whinnies of their poor ponies.

A haphazard plan was forming in Thorin's mind. "Fili, Kili, with me," he said sharply. "The rest of you, stay here."

X

Bilbo had only just fallen into an uneasy sleep when he woke again. Smaug was gone, and there were voices calling his name, very familiar voices. He wondered if he'd gone mad from the pain and closed his eyes.

But there it was again!

"Bilbo Baggins! Burglar! Hobbit!"

He frowned, opening his eyes and peering through the darkness.

"…Thorin?" he tried hesitantly. His voice was hoarse from screaming. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Thorin Oakenshield, is that you?"

Three loud voices cursed in Khuzdul, their voices thick with relief. _Fili and Kili too_, Bilbo thought dazedly.

"Bilbo, it's us! Fili and Kili and Uncle, too!"

A flood of relief washed over Bilbo. He was saved! "Where are you?" he called back. "I…I can't see you…"

The sound of shifting rock was his only reply for a moment, followed by a grunt and another low curse. "The dragon's caved in the passageway." Thorin this time, his voice low and rough with stress. Despite himself, Bilbo shivered at the sound. "…We can't get you out right now, Master Hobbit."

The words sank in slowly. He was trapped.

"Are you much hurt?" Thorin asked, his voice concerned and anxious.

"M-mostly my dignity," the hobbit managed to say, on the verge of crying again. How long is he going to be stuck here as Smaug's new favorite plaything? "I don't think he wants to kill me. Not for some time."

Thorin let out yet another curse. Bilbo had never heard him speak so much in Khuzdul. Perhaps it was a good thing he couldn't understand the language of the dwarves.

A rush of violent wind made Bilbo's heart stop in his chest, and he knew with a start of horror that Smaug was coming.

"He's coming back," he hissed to the dwarves. "Go, get out. He'll smell you."

"Bilbo!" Thorin's voice sounded strange, almost…desperate. "I _will_ come back for you."

The little hobbit bit back a whimper. He wanted so badly to be out of here, to be safe with Thorin and all the rest of the dwarves.

"Hurry," he whispered.

X

Smaug was a clever beast. While perhaps his senses had dulled somewhat from his long sleep, he knew the smell of dwarf. Striding towards the shivering, naked hobbit, he inhaled. Yes, the scent was fresh. Dwarves had been here recently. Likely they were trying to rescue the fourteenth member of their party. Another sniff. No, even better. They were still here, hiding behind the mass of rocks that blocked the passage from the treasure room. He gave the sniffling thing at his feet a disdainful look.

He almost left the little creature be. Almost.

Long, scaled fingers wrapped around the hobbit's throat and lifted him into the air, razor sharp talons pressing against the soft skin of his neck. Bilbo choked, struggling wildly as Smaug slammed him roughly against a wall. His body still ached from the assault earlier, and this was only making it worse.

"You spoke with your dwarf friends, did you not?" the dragon hissed, a strand of black hair falling into his eyes.

Bilbo couldn't breathe, let alone speak. He whimpered, nodding.

"You cannot escape, little thief. The only way in or out of this place is the Front Gate. You will live out the rest of your miserable existence here, with me. Do you understand?"

His vision was beginning to go dark at the edges. He gasped and choked and nodded furiously, desperate for air. Smaug waited until he was on the verge of unconsciousness before loosening his grip, allowing the hobbit to breathe again.

Poor Bilbo had barely a chance to catch his breath before Smaug spun him around and slammed him face first into the wall again. His feet weren't touching the ground, his body lifted up by the dragon pressed worryingly close to him. He was still struggling to breathe when he felt Smaug's cock impale him. Any air left in his lungs whooshed out in a terrible scream.

The dragon was ruthless, his sharp teeth and claws biting into Bilbo's soft body as he thrust deep inside him. The hobbit cried and screamed just as before, struggling against him, but he was pinned between the wall and Smaug's arousal throbbing deep inside him.

He was too senseless with the pain and the lack of oxygen to even notice when the dragon released, filling his tiny body with his seed. Smaug dropped him unceremoniously to the ground and there he lay, crying and gasping.

Thorin sat on the other side of the pile of rubble, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood as he listened to the sounds of the hobbit's misery.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days, or so Bilbo guessed them to be, passed much the same. Smaug would hunt, sleep, count his treasure, and then play with his new toy, delighted with his reactions and the way Bilbo screamed. It amused him how the hobbit continued to fight despite everything. Each time he took Bilbo, it was harder, more violent, wanting to push him past his limits. Yet somehow the hobbit still bore it, writhing and crying underneath him without quite breaking. Smaug was quite determined to see the stubborn creature give up.

It was nearly a week before he succeeded.

Bilbo was asleep when Smaug came to him. He had been trying to keep from sleeping for fear of this very thing happening, and barely even stirred when the dragon rolled him over onto his stomach. His naked body was dirty and cold to the touch, his once plump frame now thin with travel and lack of proper sleep or food. Smaug considered him for a few moments, nosing his legs apart. That long, thin tongue slipped out, brushing across Bilbo's soft backside. The hobbit made a little sound, but didn't wake. Amused, Smaug leaned forward more, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh.

With a sharp cry, Bilbo finally woke, immediately starting to panic. His fear was nearly palpable, strong enough that Smaug could almost taste it. The hobbit struggled, but he didn't stand a sliver of a chance. The dragon was on him in an instant, biting into his neck and making him cry out. Before the poor thing could start to beg, he buried himself inside his tight little body yet again, relishing in how those muscles spasmed around him. Bilbo screamed, but Smaug paid him no attention, biting and licking at his neck. His long claws dug into his sides, drawing blood and making the hobbit struggle even worse.

"Shh…this could be so good for you," the fire drake grunted, burying himself deeper inside him. "Submit to me. Stop fighting. You may find you enjoy it."

Bilbo sobbed, wishing with all his heart that he'd never taunted the dragon, that he'd stayed at home and dealt with the regret of never joining this quest.

Smaug was much slower with him this time. Each thrust was deep but purposeful, making Bilbo squirm and cry out. He could never predict when the wyrm would impale him. His movements were uneven, making it impossible to prepare for when the pain would strike more intensely.

But as Bilbo scraped his nails roughly against the stone, too breathless to beg for him to stop, he felt that flicker of pleasure again. The deepest of Smaug's thrusts brushed against something that made him shudder with desire rather than revulsion. It felt…good.

It was so obvious now Smaug meant to keep him. Perhaps it was best he took what pleasure he could from this instead of dwelling on how much it hurt. He had no idea how long the dragon would keep him here, in the ruins of this Dwarven city, fucking his tight little body until his poor heart gave out. There was no chance of escape.

Bilbo stopped fighting.

The great beast chuckled when he felt the hobbit attempt to relax, felt those muscles starting to loosen around him. "There's a good little thief," he murmured, his long tongue brushing against his ear.

He rutted into him, settling into a steady rhythm and filling the hobbit's insides with his enormous cock. It was still painful for Bilbo, but he focused on the pleasure, on that jolt of sensation that made him moan. He lifted his hips, rising to his knees as his own body began to stir with arousal. Soon he was crying out for a completely different reason than before.

When Smaug released, the hobbit was desperate for his own climax. His neglected cock was throbbing hard and heavy beneath him, and he whimpered, rocking back against the dragon still buried inside him. Amused and satisfied, Smaug let him. His arousal was softening inside him, but Bilbo was frantic, rocking back faster, fucking himself on the dragon. It wasn't long before he finally hit the edge, sobbing in shame and pleasure as lines of hot, sticky release painted the stone floor just beneath him.

"Pretty little hobbit," Smaug murmured in his ear, and pulled out of him, rolling the limp hobbit onto his back. He cleaned the remains of Bilbo's essence off his naked body with his mouth, licking and sucking until nothing remained.

"Your name," he breathed. "Tell me your name."

Bilbo had no fight left in him, disgusted and ashamed with what he'd done. As the dragon crouched over him, he half-sobbed it out, his heart hurting far worse than his body.

"B-Bilbo Baggins…"

X

Thorin was fuming as he stalked back up the passageway to rejoin the company. All conversation died down and twelve anxious pairs of eyes moved to the king's face. They had all heard Bilbo suffer.

"Well?" Fili demanded after a long pause.

Thorin shook his head. "I don't know. I called for him as long as I dared, but there was no answer."

The company grew noticeably more nervous at this announcement.

"Maybe he's asleep?" Ori suggested.

Thorin gave no answer, stalking outside. He was frustrated and terribly worried for the little hobbit. He'd proven to be of sterner stuff than he looked, but how long could anyone hold up against a dragon? Thorin sat down heavily on the slab of rock that Bilbo had dubbed 'the porch'. It seemed months now since he had been captured. The moon beamed down, bathing the dwarf in its light, and Thorin recalled that night, Durin's Day, when the door had opened for them. For clever Bilbo. He could picture that smug smile on the halfling's face perfectly. He'd been immensely proud of himself, and rightfully so.

Allowing himself a moment of weakness, Thorin let his head fall into his hands, sighing deeply.

"…Uncle?"

Thorin did not stir. Fili sat down beside him, rock crunching beneath his boots. A moment later, Kili joined them both, sitting on the opposite side of his uncle. For a long moment, none of them spoke, the king and his nephews arrayed there in silence. Minutes passed, and Kili let his head drift to rest on Thorin's shoulder.

"I miss Bilbo," he said, rather unnecessarily.

Thorin nodded. "As do I," he replied softly, wrapping an arm around each of his nephew's shoulders.

Fili tensed, shaking Thorin's arm off and pushing himself to his feet. "He's not dead," he snapped. "Don't talk about him like he's dead."

Thorin's eyes met Fili's, dark with grief. "There's nothing we can do."

"_No!_" Fili's knuckles were white around the hilt of his sword. "No. I won't let you give up on him. Not after everything he's done for us. We would all be dead if it weren't for him! Or stuck in that damned elf prison!" He paced back and forth. "He could have left us for dead time and time again, but he didn't. He fought for us, at the risk of his own life! Are you so driven by revenge that you are not willing to do the same for him?"

Thorin stood abruptly, and Fili was caught off-guard for a moment. "Do not think I don't care," he said quietly. "I do care. I would have Master Baggins here with us rather than trapped where he is. But I must look out for your own safety as well. I promised your mother."

Fili wasn't cowed in the slightest. "Do you remember when Azog had us cornered in the trees, with all his goblins and wargs? You went after him on your own. He would have killed you in front of all of us if Bilbo hadn't had the courage to take on Azog by himself." Thorin looked away, and Fili knew he had him. "How is this _any_ different?"

Kili stood as well, looking between the two. "What do we do?" he asked. "Thirteen dwarves against a dragon? That's impossible."

There was a pause.

"We don't have to kill Smaug to free our burglar," Thorin said finally. "All we need is a chance to get to him."

"It may take some time, but we could unblock the tunnel," said a voice from behind them. They turned to see the rest of the dwarves had filed out of the dark passage into the moonlight. Dwalin, who of course had been the one to speak, was hefting a pickaxe over his shoulder. "Surely none of you have forgotten how to mine."

Something like a smile twitched at Thorin's lips.

Meanwhile in the heart of the mountain, their little hobbit slept soundly against the dragon's side, a mighty wing unfolded across him to keep him warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Bilbo was granted access to Smaug's bed after telling the dragon his name. The bed was an almost perfect circle amidst all the coins, which reminded the hobbit strongly of a large glittery nest. It wasn't terribly comfortable or warm, but it was better than the ground, and keeping close to the fire drake kept Bilbo very warm indeed. He slept more soundly beside him than he had in quite some time.

It was difficult to feel much anymore. The first few days after he had given in to the dragon had been racked with guilt, but now, Bilbo hardly felt anything at all. Pain and pleasure he knew exquisitely well, both at the hands of his lover and tormentor. Soft skin was starting to scar over, his body toughening under Smaug's abuse. It was easier to take it now, both because his body had started to grow accustomed and because the hobbit drew all the pleasure he could out of it.

"Talk to me," Smaug demanded one night, when a bruised and bloodied hobbit curled up against his side.

Bilbo looked up in surprise, his eyes raking over the creature's face for the first time in some time now. "What about?" His voice was a bit hoarse with disuse, and he was still catching his breath from the punishment he had just endured.

"Anything. No riddles. I am very bored with riddles," he explained, and Bilbo felt something like a smile twitching his lips upwards.

"Isn't that how you're supposed to speak with a dragon? In riddles?" the hobbit asked. But in looking at Smaug, he had to admit that he looked less like a dragon now than a man. Perhaps he'd grown used to him.

The dragon actually chuckled, a delightfully wicked sound that sent a chill down Bilbo's spine. Brushing a clump of dark hair out of his face with a scaled hand, Smaug's dark eyes met the hobbit's.

"So it is said," he replied, and leaned in to nuzzle Bilbo's neck softly. "But you understand, I am sure, that I have not had a decent conversation in many long years. Any fool who has woken me has thought to speak in riddles. It has me half mad."

"Yes, I suppose that would drive me mad too." Hesitantly, Bilbo reached out to brush a finger across the curved horns set atop Smaug's head. The dragon seemed to find that rather amusing, and his sound in response had the hobbit snapping his hand back quickly.

"Calm yourself, little rabbit," Smaug said, raising a dark eyebrow before settling his head against Bilbo's shoulder. "You have my permission to touch me however much you like. My appearance must seem unsettling to you."

Granted permission, delicate hands gently reached out to stroke the dragon's horns before sliding down to feel his hair. It was surprisingly soft and cool, dark with a little bit of a curl to it. Experimentally, Bilbo let his hands drift down further to caress the dark red scales that trailed down to his nose. Smaug's eyes closed and he made a sound like a contented hum as Bilbo gently petted him. _How strange_, Bilbo thought, _to have a lapful of purring dragon. _

"On your back," Smaug said abruptly, and Bilbo paused, surprised. Smaug had taken him only an hour previously. Sensing his hesitation, the dragon huffed, lifting his head and pushing the hobbit down.

"What are we –"

But before Bilbo could finish, Smaug's head was between his legs, nuzzling against his soft cock and making him shudder. He moaned softly as that long, wicked tongue caressed him, his toes curling in pleasure. The dragon had never done this before, and Bilbo was a little nervous for what might follow.

It wasn't long before the hobbit was stiff with pleasure and squirming underneath Smaug, his breathing fast and uneven. He anticipated being taken, but he was wrong. Instead, to his surprise, he felt Smaug's tongue slipping inside him. Bilbo whimpered, arching a bit at the intrusion. He was used to feeling pain at being breached, but not this time. It was more pleasure than he was accustomed to, and he shuddered, his eyes heavily lidded. The dragon smirked at the breathy moans escaping the hobbit, a clawed hand wrapping around his leaking hardness and stroking roughly. It only took a few strokes before Bilbo released with a loud cry, his body trembling uncontrollably as pleasure took him.

Smaug watched him with amusement, pulling the shaking hobbit into his arms and lavishing kisses and licks all over his face and neck. Bilbo moaned and snuggled closer, eyes still closed. Smaug held him close, adoring him with soft touches and kisses until the little creature dropped off into sleep, his face buried in the dragon's chest.

X

Things were progressing slowly in the tunnel. Between the thirteen dwarves, there was only one pickaxe. They took turns taking shifts, two of them at a time. It was extremely slow going, and it was only making the dwarves more anxious.

On the plus side, Dori and Ori had found a stream not far from the Porch that ran down the mountain to join the River Running. They had been quick to refill their waterskins and took turns bathing. The water was cold, but it was better than nothing. They had not bathed since they were in Lake-town, nearly a month ago now. It felt so much longer than that.

Thorin didn't sleep anymore. They had heard Bilbo's voice from within the treasure room, and at least knew he was alive, but the sounds that came from him almost frightened Thorin more than when he had screamed. The fact that Bilbo had not even attempted to speak with them for nearly a week worried him even more. He was not sure how much of the hobbit they had known would be left when – _if _– they rescued him.

During the nights, Thorin would work alone in the tunnel until his hands were too blistered and bloody to continue. Often times the others would find him in the mornings, unconscious with the pickaxe still held tightly in his ruined hands. After the first time, Oin had bandaged his hands, only for Thorin to rip through them the next night, giving the wounds no time to heal. His mind was too tormented with thoughts of Bilbo for rest. The only time he got any decent sleep was when he fainted from the pain.

Thorin stirred late one afternoon after a long night. He had pushed himself much further than he should have once Bilbo's moans had started, and he had no memory of leaving the tunnel. And yet, here he was, lying on his side in his own bedroll. His hands were throbbing terribly and he groaned.

"It's about time," came a familiar voice.

Thorin forced his eyes open. Balin was sitting beside him, watching him very obvious disapproval. Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing when he used his hands. They had been heavily bandaged, apparently while he'd been asleep.

"I'm to keep an eye on you," Balin said. "Oin's orders. He says you aren't allowed to go near the tunnel until your hands have healed."

"Does he?" Thorin sighed, but it was to be expected, he supposed. As the one with the most medical knowledge, Oin had taken it upon himself to doctor everyone's wounds. He'd threatened to put a watchdog on Thorin before, but the soon-to-be king hadn't taken him seriously.

The older dwarf's disapproving expression changed to sympathy, and he rested a hand lightly on Thorin's knee. "We need you, laddie. It's difficult for all of us, and hardest on you. I understand. But the younger ones need someone to look up to. Someone to lead them. You've been that leader before. We need you to be him again."

Thorin said nothing, his head bowed. Guilt was rising up in his chest, and his hands throbbed worse than ever.

"Thorin, please," Balin pleaded. "I know that strength is in you somewhere. I've seen it myself."

Thorin still remained silent, and white bearded dwarf sighed. "Think on it, at least?"

There was another long moment of silence before the prince finally stood. "I wish to bathe."

"Fili and Kili are already there." Balin nearly jumped to his feet. "Let me remove the bandages on your hands, so they don't get wet."

Thorin nodded curtly, and Balin set to work, gently unwrapping the strips of linen and gauze from the wounds. He whistled in sympathy as prince's palms were bared, raw and bloody from the constant abuse.

"He must have lost his ring," Thorin said abruptly, and Balin glanced up in surprise.

"Hm?"

"Bilbo. His magic ring. The one that makes him invisible. He used it to save us, do you remember?"

The older dwarf hesitated, a little nervous of where exactly this was leading to. "I…suppose he must have."

Thorin just nodded.

X

It wasn't until Thorin was done bathing that he recalled Balin had mentioned FIli and Kili were at the stream as well. He'd been so distracted with his own thoughts that he hadn't even considered looking for them. Dripping wet and nude, he hauled himself out of the stream and onto the grassy banks. He could hear raised voices some ways away, and Thorin recognized them as his nephews' voices. A little concerned, the prince was quick to dress back into his armor, belting on Orcrist and leaving the rest of his clothes in a pile for now. If they were in danger, he didn't have time to dress fully.

As he drew closer to the voices, however, he realized a bit sheepishly that he'd been mistaken. A trail of clothes led behind a rock, where Fili and Kili's voices were emanating.

"Ah! Fili, yes, more!"

"Ha…greedy little brother, aren't you? Alright…"

Quietly, Thorin slipped back to where he'd left the rest of his clothes and put them on, returning back to the Porch. It seemed all his suspicions for the past several years had been correct.

About a half hour later, Fili and Kili returned, both pink in the cheeks and grinning like fools. Thorin smiled slightly, pleased to see them so happy. It seemed even the darkest situations, there was a ray of light to be found.


	5. Chapter 5

They heard nothing from Bilbo for the next few days. Sometimes Thorin suspected he caught the low murmur of voices, but if the hobbit was actually ispeaking/i with Smaug... that frightened him far more than anything else.

He remembered vaguely a story of Glaurung, Father of Dragons, whose magic bewitched a princess to forget entirely who she was. She knew nothing of the world or of herself, and in her ignorance she went so far as to marry her own brother. The spell was only broken when Glaurung was slain, at which point she cast herself into a river and her body was never found.

Thorin had been told the story as a child, sitting in Grandfather Thror's lap. Dragons were the subject of his favorite stories, particularly the ones in which they ate scores of elves. Great Uncle Fror had been killed by a cold-drake, as well as Great Grandfather Dain. Even tales of Scatha the Worm delighted him, though most of his story was more about Fram, the Man who slayed him and dared to claim the treasure that had rightfully belonged to the dwarves.

What worried him was Bilbo's knowledge of dragons. It was unlikely that fauntlings grew up with the same stories as dwarrows. Hobbits were so much tamer. While Thorin had grew up on tales of war and blood and gold, that was just the dwarf way. They were raised to be warriors and smiths, a stout people accustomed to danger.

Bilbo was anything but, from what Thorin knew of him. He was reminded strongly of that first night in Bag-End, when the halfling toppled over just during conversation of Smaug. The king-in-exile realized for the first time how scared Bilbo must have been when they sent him alone to fetch the cup.

"Forgive me," he had murmured aloud, as though Bilbo could hear him. Kili had looked up in surprise and asked what for, but Fili had silenced him with a cuff across the head.

The progress in the tunnel was slow. The dragon had ensured to collapse it well, and one wrong strike would bring the whole thing down on their heads. As Bofur was the only one who'd really spent a lot of time mining, he had to teach everyone what to look for in order to keep the tunnel from collapsing completely. Thorin itched to do something, to help, but the Company never let him alone for a minute. With his hands in the condition they were in, he was forbidden from using them much, and he had to make do with watching the others work.

Fili and Kili made good company, when they weren't sneaking off. Speaking with them kept Thorin's mind off Bilbo's horrible situation and he focused instead on how very proud he was of them for what they had achieved. Kili had barely reached adulthood before they left, and he had still acted much like a child. While some of that was his personality, Thorin was impressed with how much more responsible and independent he seemed. Certainly, he stuck to his brother like glue, and doing anything without Fili seemed to frighten him, but he wasn't so much of a baby anymore. He was a warrior, with an astounding number of kills under his belt for his age.

Thorin had also come to appreciate and even respect his choice of weapon. While archery was a bit too Elvish for his taste, Kili had saved Thorin's life alone several times with his sharp eyes and quick fingers. When Fili had pleaded for Kili to come on the quest as well, he had named Kili's unique skills as one of the reasons for him to join them. Thorin had been skeptical, but he saw now that Fili had been right. Kili was an excellent hunter, quiet on his feet for a dwarf and still small enough that he could remain somewhat unnoticed. When he wanted to be, he could be remarkably silent. Without him, the Company would have starved to death.

Fili too had proved himself. Thorin had less doubts in his blond nephew than in Kili, but Fili had still impressed him. His skill with his blade and knives had improved dramatically in the face of real battle, and he had adjusted quickly to the task. Between Dwalin and Thorin's collective training, Fili had learned a great deal. But it wasn't just that. Fili was a natural fighter. He was born to be a king, and Thorin had been grooming him into his heir since his childhood. His instincts served him remarkably well. All in all, Thorin was glad to have them both as his nephews.

As for the recent development in their relationship, Thorin kept it to himself. They seemed happy enough together, and he loved them too dearly to wish them anything less than the best. The boys had always been very close since childhood, and he had suspected for some time now that perhaps they were closer than brothers maybe ought to be. Still, Thorin saw no harm in it. Dwarves were slow to love, but once they did, it was with a fierce and unbending passion. He had seen that love in his nephews, and he would not allow anyone to ruin that for them.

Secrets did not keep long in this Company though, and that was just as well. When Ori caught his friends kissing by the river, half naked and flushed, everyone found out. Fili and Kili had been worried at first, that much was obvious. But Thorin was ever their stalwart defender, just as he always had been. If anyone said anything negative against the princes' relationship, they found themselves on their back with a blade at their throat.

Thorin just didn't tolerate that kind of behavior, and the Company learned quickly to keep their objections to themselves..

X

Bilbo had not dreamed in some time, but he did that night. He dreamed he was standing against Smaug. Not the Smaug that held him and warmed him, but the one that he had first seen, the enormous scarlet dragon, his scales glistening with gems and gold. The dragon towered above him, smoke billowing from his nostrils as he let out a huge burst of flame from his mouth. The fire was all around him.

But Bilbo didn't burn or scream or even feel any pain. The fire seemed to swallow him whole, licking at him and bathing him, until his skin began to peel. Frowning, he plucked at the dead skin, only for it to all come off in one horrible chunk. Instead of soft, hobbit skin, his arms were smooth with dark red scales, identical to Smaug's. He turned, horrified, to face the dragon once more, only to see that he was once more at his smaller size, pushing a clump of dark hair back behind his curled horns and smiling at him.

"Mine," Smaug told him, and kissed him.

Bilbo woke with a cry of terror on his lips, jerking upright. His eyes immediately went to his arms, rubbing against them to be completely certain that there were no scales there. Smaug grumbled as Bilbo pushed away a leathery wing that had been outstretched over him, sliding down the immense pile of treasure.

A golden eye opened, watching him lazily. "Just where are you going, my succulent little hobbit?"

Bilbo pulled his knees up to his chest at the bottom of the pile, letting out a sigh. "Nowhere," he replied softly. "Nowhere at all."

The dragon slid down after Bilbo, pulling him into an embrace. The hobbit didn't fight, trembling slightly as Smaug's arms wrapped possessively around him. He could feel his breath on his shoulder, and despite the nightmare, despite everything, BIlbo found himself curling closer, seeking out warmth and affection.

_iDespite all his faults/i, _Bilbo found himself thinking hazily, _ihe certainly does keep me warm and taken care of/i._

Scaled fingers brushed across the hobbit's lips, and he looked up into those entrancing golden eyes. A sudden feeling of immense calm washed over him, and he relaxed completely into Smaug's arms.

"Tell me what's on your mind," he purred.

Almost distantly, Bilbo heard himself spilling his heart out to his captor. "-and Thorin actually seems like he's iworried/i about-"

Smaug stopped him with a look. "Thorin?" he questioned, his curiosity peaked. The name seemed so familiar.

"Thorin Oakenshield," Bilbo informed him. "Son of Thrain, son of Thror, all of that nonsense. You know how dwarves are."

Smaug really did have the most lovely eyes. Gold, but at just the right angle, they were scarlet. It was fascinating. Bilbo was quite certain he could stare at them forever. His lips too were surprisingly red. Funny how it took the hobbit so long to notice how pretty they were, twisted upwards just a little in that amused smile.

"The supposed next King Under the Mountain," Smaug commented, and Bilbo nodded.

"He's terribly full of himself," he babbled. "Though I suppose he has reason to be. Balin told us the story of how he came to be called Oakenshield, and I think-"

Smaug cut off the chatter with a wave of his hand. Bilbo immediately fell silent, watching the dragon with wide eyes.

Smaug fixed him with another long stare, his gold eyes boring into the hobbit's very soul. He was surprised it had taken this long to really drag Bilbo down under the dragonspell, but the little creature was completely under his power now. "I am King Under the Mountain now," he intoned.

Bilbo frowned.

"I am King Under the Mountain, am I not?" Smaug pressed. There was a pause, and the hobbit nodded reluctantly, looking a little puzzled.

Strange. Perhaps Baggins wasn't quite as under his spell as he thought. Well, it wasn't as though they didn't have plenty of time to remedy that. Still, Bilbo was accepting it. It was time for a little brainwashing.

"They are not coming for you, little hobbit," he informed him. Bilbo's brow furrowed, but he didn't break eye contact. Good. "They would not dare risk their skins for you, not like you have for them. Dwarves are terribly ungrateful. Believe me, my dear, I know."

The hobbit looked more confused than anything. It wouldn't be difficult to pull him over to Smaug's side, and the dragon continued, thoroughly enjoying the power he had over him.

"It is so much better this way," he purred into the halfling's ear. "All this treasure is yours. The dwarves promised you a share, did they not? They would have never given it to you. Dwarves are so horribly greedy. You have seen it yourself, haven't you, Bilbo?"

The more Smaug spoke, the more Bilbo realized he was right. He nodded again. He i_had/i _seen it, hadn't he? He remembered so clearly now how Thorin had stolen a golden button off his waistcoat, how Kili had tried to snitch Sting while he wasn't looking. They _iwere/i _so greedy. This whole journey they had just been trying to take his things. They had given him the smallest rations they could, even! And after all the times he had gotten their necks out of danger. They were ungrateful, and rude, and greedy. Bilbo could see now they would have never let him touch even a single golden coin of the treasure.

"They have been lying to you, halfling," Smaug told him quietly, and something hardened in Bilbo's face. The dragon suppressed a victorious smirk.

"Tell me where they are," the dragon hissed to him. "I will drive them off, and they will never lay a finger on your treasure. You earned it. They mean to steal it from you. Will you let them continue to plot and scheme against you?"

"It's mine!"

Good. Smaug had finally got him. He smiled dangerously, brushing a kiss across Bilbo's lips. "Tell me where they are."


	6. Chapter 6

"iDragoni!"

Fili and Kili dashed back towards camp, screaming a warning as loud as they could. They'd been sneaking off to have a moment of privacy when they caught a glimpse of the enormous scarlet beast emerging from the Front Gate.

Fili's braids smacked against his face as he ran, Kili hot on his heels. He couldn't help but feel relieved as the other dwarves sprang into action, Thorin herding the Company into the safety of the stone tunnel. They could hear the dragon coming now, the sudden rushing of the wind making it more difficult to run across the narrow path, but Fili didn't dare waste a second.

The thing was that he iknew/i Kili was faster than him. Kili was built slender and tall for a dwarf, with slim fingers that made him an excellent marksmen and the lightness of feet that made him so great a hunter. And yet Kili was dogging on his brother's heels, determined to see Fili to safety. If Fili weren't so panicked at the moment, he would be touched at his little brother's concern for him.

It wasn't far to camp now, though the path narrowed dangerously. Usually the dwarves used ropes to maneuver this part of the mountain to avoid falling, but those had been lost in Smaug's last attack. The drop was a good fifteen feet of sheer cliff and very solid rock. Fili was terrified of heights, and his steps faltered slightly as he approached the thin path.

"Fili," called his brother's voice from behind him. Fili swallowed his fear and dashed forwards then.

It was going to be close. The rest of the dwarves were safely in the tunnel now, with Thorin waiting anxiously for his nephews, eyes scanning the skies. The now furious winds meant Smaug couldn't be far off. Fear choked in Fili's throat and he ran faster, forgetting for a moment the dangerous slim path he tread.

One foot came down hard on nothing..

Fili swallowed a scream as he felt himself start to fall, sliding downwards to what would surely be his death. If the fall didn't kill him, the dragon would. But then there was a sharp cry from his brother, and a hand closed tightly around his wrist. Kili had moved with sheer instinct, sliding down to his belly as soon as Fili started to fall and just barely catching him in time. He grasped his older brother's other wrist. Fili was vaguely aware of Thorin shouting something, presumably curses, in their native tongue.

"I've got you," Kili murmured. He struggled to pull Fili up, but the dead weight was too much for the slim archer to heave.

"Kili," Fili started to say, but his brother cut him off.

"Shut up, it'll be alright," he insisted. His dark eyes were wide with panic, and he tried yet again to pull Fili up, but to no avail. The winds were worse than ever now, battering the blond dwarf against the rock face.

Smaug was coming. If Kili didn't go now, the dragon would kill them both. Any left out in the open would die.

Fili was bleeding now, a gash drawn into his cheek from a particularly hard crash into the stone wall. His shoulders were aching from the strain of hanging on to Kili, and he could feel his grip starting to give. Kili couldn't pull him up, not at this angle, and the dragon was so close...

Fili's blue eyes met Kili's brown ones. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and jerked both hands down hard, shaking free of Kili's grasp.

X

Thorin had known what was coming, but nothing could prepare him for the sight of Fili slipping away. Even worse was Kili's cry of anguish, the howls of anger and fear and grief already ripping from his throat.

Thorin had to wrestle his nephew back into the safety of the tunnel. Kili fought and screamed for his brother, tears rolling unashamedly down his cheeks. It broke Thorin's heart to see him like this, but he would not lose both his nephews today. Fili's fate was uncertain. The odds were not in his favor, but there was a chance, a small one, that he was alive, and would still be when they returned for him. But Kili could most certainly be saved, even if he didn't want to be.

Thorin tossed Kili inside unceremoniously and pushed the stone door shut, sealing them in for now. That just made the young dwarf howl even more.

"You ileft/i him!" Kili screamed. "We can't leave him! You can't, you ican't/i, Thorin!"

"There was nothing we could have done without risking our own lives as well," Thorin said softly.

"Then we ishould have/i!" his nephew spat at him. "Fili could be d-"

Kili couldn't finish. The fight drained out of him in a moment and he collapsed into his uncle's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. The king's arms went around him immediately, muffling Kili's grief into his shoulder as his fingers stroked through the young dwarf's tangled mess of a mane. "I know," he murmured to him. "I know."

Thorin knew this pain too well. He could give anything to keep his nephew from having to bear it as well. Half a century after his death, Thorin still grieved for Frerin, his brother that he had lost in battle. He had carried that scar on his heart for most of his life. For sweet, carefree, mischievous Kili to carry that as well would change him beyond recognition. In losing one nephew, Thorin would, in a way, lose both.

He prayed fiercely to Mahal and every other god he knew to keep Fili safe.

X

What the dwarves did not realize was that Smaug did not come alone. The dragon landed with a thump that made the ground shudder, and a hobbit toppled off his back, caught quickly by the fold of a leathery wing. Smaug set the halfling down carefully, admiring his prize. The little creature was utterly under his spell now, bedecked in dwarvish finery with that elvish short sword at his hip. Sting, he had called it.

What a tiny little Sting it was!

Smaug settled in not far from the Porch, his mighty bulk resting quite comfortably on the ground. Bilbo pointed to where the door was, impossible to see or open from here. Ah well, not a problem. The dragon had all the leverage he needed right here.

"Come on out, little dwarflings," Smaug taunted.

There was no answer, unsurprisingly.

"Thorin Oakenshield." Perhaps names would have a better effect. "I believe I have something of yours here. Go on, my darling. Say hello."

Glassy blue eyes blinked up at Smaug uncomprehendingly. "Who am I saying hello to?" Bilbo asked, his voice dull and lifeless.

Oh. Hmm. How boring. Smaug had thought to receive more of a reaction after bringing the halfling here, so close to his beloved dwarves.

Nonetheless, it triggered a strangled dwarvish curse from the other side of the door.

"Yes, I have one Master Baggins with me," the dragon said lazily. "Though he's growing stupid and dull now. Until the son of Thrain comes out to speak with us, I think I shall have him hurt himself."

X

Kili had lain still and silent in Thorin's arms, trembling uncontrollably, but when he heard Bilbo's voice, he could take no longer. He jerked up with a cry of both horror and relief. Bilbo was ialive/i, but he was still very much Smaug's prisoner. Thorin's hand clamped over his mouth just a moment too late.

Smaug was speaking again from outside the mountain, and the dwarves strained to hear him.

"Oh no, darling, no maiming yourself. Just enough to-" The halfling cried out in pain, and Smaug chuckled. "Like that, yes."

Kili convulsed wildly in his uncle's arms, a half-scream slipping from his lips. He was near delirious with worry for Fili, and hearing Bilbo suffer was more than he could bear. Thorin hushed him as best he could, glancing around at the Company.

He was torn. Likely Smaug would kill him on the spot, and just continue to torture Bilbo. He'd be doing the dwarves no favors, and Kili could never get over the loss of two of his kin in the same day. On the other hand, this was his first chance to do something to help the hobbit since he was taken. Was it worth the risk?

A fresh scream spilled from the hobbit's lips on the other side of the wall, and Thorin knew there was no choice to be made. Kili was sobbing again, and at a nod from the king, Dwalin moved over to take his nephew from him. Kili curled into the tattooed dwarf's chest without any complaint.

"No one is to open the door until I give the word, is that understood?" Thorin said tersely. Without waiting for an answer, he got to his feet and pushed the heavy door open, blinking in the sunlight. Stone grated against stone as it closed behind him, sealing him out.

X

Bilbo was curled up on the grass and crying silently when the door opened. Thorin's eyes went first to the halfling, assessing the damage and feeling hot rage sear through his belly. A bandaged hand wrapped around Orcrist's hilt. It was impossible to see exactly i_how_/i injured the once-burglar was, and after that scrutiny, the dwarf king raised his eyes to the dragon.

Smaug was immense. He could easily crush Thorin underfoot, just as he almost had all those many years ago. A tingle of fear ran down the dwarf's spine, but he ignored it. He raised his gaze defiantly, careful not to make actual eye contact. Many good people had lost their wills that way, and Thorin did not intend to join them.

"Thorin Oakenshield," Smaug rumbled, sounding far too smug. It only made Thorin's blood boil all the more. "How very kind of you to join us."

Thorin gripped Orcrist more tightly, paying no attention to the sharp pain in his palms as he did so. "Speak, beast. What is it that you want?"

Smaug lowered his neck, bringing his head down to the dwarf's level. Thorin resisted the urge to meet his eyes.

"I want to keep my prize," the dragon announced. "And I want you to leave."

"The halfling is no prize to be won!" Thorin shouted angrily, his temper getting the best of him for a moment before he remembered to stay level-headed. It wouldn't do to shout at a dragon. He'd end up dead if he kept that up.

A puff of smoke went out from the dragon's nostrils, and he nosed the hobbit gently. Bilbo stirred, looking up at the great creature with blank eyes. No words passed between them as Bilbo shakily stood, leaning on Smaug's mighty head for support. One hand stayed wrapped around his torso as he limped towards where Thorin stood, Smaug keeping him upright.

"Look into his eyes, Thorin. Tell me that he isn't mine," the dragon taunted.

The king-in-exile swallowed, showing his first signs of uncertainty as he glanced over at Bilbo. The hobbit's blue eyes were glazed over with pain, but behind that, he was empty. Smaug had hollowed him out and made him into something that did not even i_recognize_/i Thorin, and that hurt far more than the dwarf had anticipated.

His shoulders slumped, his grip on Orcrist's hilt loosening. "What are your terms?" he asked, defeated.

There was no rescuing that Bilbo. The hobbit he had known was long gone. Protecting his kin, then, was the priority. If they had to leave this mountain defeated, then...at least they were alive.

A chuckle rumbled out from the dragon's throat. "Bind the halfling's wounds. I will return for him in an hour. After that, I will allow you to leave my mountain. But you must swear to never return. If you attempt to leave with the halfling, I will slaughter you all. And if you do not leave, I will kill your Company slowly and make you bear witness to it."

Thorin gritted his teeth. His pride rebelled against all of this. After fighting so hard for Erebor, he was expected to simply turn tail and run?

But what choice did he have? To die in such a way was not noble or glorious, no matter what the stories said. Thorin understood now. The lives of those he loved were so very precious. Was he willing to see them all killed with no chance of victory because of his own stubborn pride?

"Well?" Smaug prompted.

They had lost their hobbit. Fili's fate was unknown. Thorin wouldn't risk any more innocent lives.

"Very well, dragon," he agreed wearily. "You have my word that I nor my kin will return to this mountain."

Triumph gleamed in Smaug's golden eyes, and he pushed the hobbit roughly towards the dwarf. "I will return in one hour," he announced, and launched himself back into the sky.

Thorin caught Bilbo by instinct, his arms wrapping around the small broken creature. The halfling fainted just a moment later and Thorin sank to the ground, holding Bilbo close and pressing a kiss to his brow.

"Open the door," he said to the other dwarves. "Our fate is decided for us."


	7. Chapter 7

"I've got you."

Bilbo blinked sightlessly at the dwarf king, trembling uncontrollably as his small fingers curled into that thick fur mantle. Thorin sucked in a quiet breath, trying to reposition the hobbit so he could get to his injuries, but Bilbo refused to budge.

"I'm trying to _help_!" Thorin growled, frustrated.

Stone grated as the door was pushed open, and Kili was off like a shot, running down the slope to find his brother. Thorin watched his nephew go, something twisting in his chest. He made to get up, but the hobbit's hands were still clutching at him, keeping him down. Big, frightened blue eyes blinked up at him, and Bilbo's lips parted.

"Th-Thorin?"

The king-in-exile froze at the sound of his name, looking down to the source. Bilbo, poor, abused little Bilbo, was looking at him in a mixture of fear and relief.

"Thorin," the hobbit murmured again, and his eyes closed.

Smaug had meant for this to happen, Thorin was sure. He'd meant for the dwarves to give up on their smallest companion, only for Bilbo to tug at their heartstrings again. But the deal was set. The hobbit would stay, and the Company would walk free. Once again he was paying the price for their freedom.

It wasn't _fair_!

There was a shout from further down the mountain, and Thorin recognized it instantly as Kili's voice. "Oin, Gloin, take care of the halfling," he ordered, prying Bilbo's fingers from his front. The hobbit moaned, but Thorin couldn't stay here, not when Kili so clearly needed him.

He brushed a hand briefly through Bilbo's hair and surged to his feet, running down the mountain towards where he'd heard his nephew yell. Bilbo very nearly sobbed as the king-in-exile left, and Bofur gently gathered the halfling into his arms, stroking through his sweaty curls.

"Easy lad," Bofur murmured. "We're all here. Let's get you taken care of."

A familiar voice and reassuring touches were just what Bilbo needed. He relaxed then, gazing up at Bofur as the healers worked open his borrowed clothes to examine his wounds.

The self-inflicted injuries weren't the only ones, though they were certainly the freshest. The hobbit's skin was littered with scars and half-healed cuts, as well as an impressive number of shiny burns. The dwarves winced in sympathy as Oin began to tend to him, being as gentle as possible. Bilbo whimpered, shivering in Bofur's arms.

"Kill me," he whispered, and fainted.

X

Kili's boots came down hard, crushing the soft grass underneath him. He ran as fast as he could, his thoughts fixed only on finding Fili, on praying fiercely that his brother was safe. Already he had learned these paths extraordinarily well, and his feet took him down familiar trails without thought.

"Fili!" he cried out at the top of his voice, darting along a different path. He had to find him, he _would_ find him, and Fili would be just fine, he had to be...

A blur of gold caught Kili's eye, and he abruptly changed paths, faster now. "Fili!" he shouted again. Soon he caught sight of his brother's familiar blond hair, the light furs that belonged only to Fili. Anxiety pounded through his veins, and before long, the young archer had skidded to a halt at Fili's side.

"Fi," he breathed. His older brother was flat on his back, one leg bent at an unnatural angle and blood staining across most of his face. _Smaug hadn't touched him_.

Blue eyes fluttered open at the nickname, taking the younger dwarf in slowly. Kili cried out, this time in relief, taking his brother's hand in his own and squeezing it. Fili winced.

"Quietly, brother," he croaked, but there was a small smile on his face. "Not so loud."

"I hate you," Kili mumbled, tears welling up in his eyes. "I _hate_ you, you stupid...cow." He pressed a kiss to his brother's lips, long fingers stroking gently through his lion's mane.

"Cow?" Fili raised an eyebrow, looking exhausted and a little unfocused but certainly still his mischievous self. "That's the best you can do?"

Kili couldn't help but giggle, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "It was the only thing I could think of."

Fili gave his brother a tired smile before his eyes closed again, letting out a shaky breath. "Thought that dragon was going to eat me," he admitted quietly.

Kili nodded, even though Fili couldn't see it. He kept his brother's hand in both of his own, desperate for a little physical contact but nervous about hurting him by accident.

"Don't scare me like that again or I'll kill you," he said abruptly, his voice rather fierce.

Fili's eyes opened and he smiled. There was a shout from somewhere above them, and relief flooded through the injured dwarf. _Thorin_. There was no one he wanted to see more right now, besides maybe his mother.

He squeezed Kili's hand. "Go get him," Fili murmured. "I don't fancy staying down here until the dragon comes again."

"I'll be right back," Kili promised. He squeezed back gently and kissed Fili's brow before straightening up and running off to find Thorin.

X

It only took Thorin and Kili a few minutes to return to the injured dwarf, but by that point Fili had passed out again. This time Kili did a sweep for injuries, finally noticing Fili's clearly broken leg.

While Thorin attempted to bring Fili back around, Kili dropped instead to examine the injury. He drew one of his knives, creating a rip in his brother's trouser leg enough to where he could tear all the fabric below the knee off completely.

The string of curses that followed was certainly creative, and were they in any other situation, would have earned Kili a slap. Instead, Thorin added a few choice expletives to Kili's statement.

The fall had broken Fili's leg, the pressure causing the bone to buckle. Kili gagged as he realized the shard protruding from his brother's shin was the bone itself, darkened with blood from the wound it had caused.

"Fili...oh _Mahal_..." Kili moaned, barely managing to keep from emptying his stomach.

The bone would need to be pushed back into place before they could bind the wound, which was still bleeding steadily. If they didn't act fast, Fili would bleed to death. Thorin's gaze snapped back to Kili, his voice sharp.

"Bring Oin here. _Now_."

Kili hesitated only a moment before nodding and dashing off to fetch the healer. Thorin watched him go before leaning back down, trying to rouse Fili once more.

X

Bofur sighed as he looked down at the unconscious hobbit in his arms. Oin had since finished bandaging the worst of the wounds, and Ori had offered his best furs to keep Bilbo warm for now. Bofur kept him close to the fire, adjusting Bilbo to rest his head in the dwarf's lap and pull the furs up to his chin. The hobbit mumbled something incoherent and snuggled a little closer.

It was almost physically painful to see their burglar like this. Bofur had been one of the first to befriend him, and had stayed close to Bilbo's side for almost the entire journey. On some particularly cold nights, they had shared a bedroll to keep the hobbit warm. Of course, Bilbo had probably thought Bofur was just as cold as he and being practical. But dwarves could withstand extreme weather far better than other races, and after living most his life in mineshafts, Bofur was hardly affected by the chill in the Misty Mountains at all. Watching Bilbo shiver beside him had led him to invite the hobbit to share a bedroll for warmth. After the first night, Bilbo crawled over to cuddle with the dwarf for many more to follow.

The halfling had become a very dear friend throughout the journey. Bofur stroked through damp curls, watching Bilbo sleep. The resulting sigh from the small creature just made his heart ache.

"D' you s'pose there's a way to save 'im?" Bofur asked aloud. A few of the dwarves looked up at him in surprise, the rest staring at the ground.

Balin shook his head slowly. "Not without risking everyone else's lives as well," he replied.

"I'd do it." Bofur's response was immediate, a sudden flare of emotion rising up in his chest. "I'd risk m' life for his. I'd die for him!"

There was a long silence. Ori frowned, getting to his feet. "I'd do it, too."

"Ori, sit _down_!" Dori tugged at his younger brother's tunic, but Ori shook his head, pulling away and joining Bofur by the fire.

He paused a moment and took one of the hobbit's limp hands in his own. "Bilbo's nearly died for all of us several times over," Ori said quietly. "We all came here knowing there was a chance we wouldn't make it home. We can't give up."

The Company was quiet, the dwarves thinking it over. Dwalin opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Kili, his face white and strained. Everyone turned to look at him, anxious for news of Fili.

"Fili...H-he's alive," Kili stuttered. "But Oin, we need you. He...he broke his leg, and the bone..." The young dwarf swallowed. "It's sticking out. He's lost a lot of blood."

Despite his age, Oin was surprisingly quick to get to his feet, gesturing for his brother to follow.

"Lead the way, lad," Gloin said gruffly.

X

Kili didn't think he would ever get his brother's scream out of his ears. By the time he had returned with Oin and Gloin, Thorin had managed to bring Fili back around. He'd been _awake_ when they had forced the bone back into place. Kili couldn't watch; he'd just held Fili's arms down and kept him still when he struggled and cried and _begged_ for them to stop. By the time Fili succumbed to unconsciousness, there were tears streaming down the youngest Durin's face and he couldn't stop shaking. He'd never heard Fili beg before.

Fili hadn't woke or even showed any inclination of waking after that. Thorin had carried him back to where they made camp, and now Kili sat with his brother's head in his lap, fingers combing absently through his golden locks. Fili's leg had been bandaged and set in a makeshift splint of branches and strips of fabric to keep it in place.

"He can't travel like this," Kili murmured to Thorin, his gaze focused on Fili. His brother was too pale, too still. "He'll die if we leave now."

Thorin said nothing. He had told Smaug he and the others would leave, but Kili was right. Fili had lost too much blood to travel, and there was no way he could walk on that leg. His condition was uncertain enough as it was, but if they were to force him all the way back across Middle-Earth, he would never make it.

His eyes drifted to rest on Bilbo, asleep in Bofur's lap. The hobbit looked terrible, skinny and frail. It was hard to believe this was the same person that had so valiantly saved the lives of the Company time and time again. Was Thorin really willing to give him up to a dragon to save the lives of his kin?

"Uncle?"

Thorin shook himself out of his thoughts, turning to look at Kili. "I do not know what to do," Thorin admitted quietly. "Smaug will slaughter us if we do not accept his terms, but for us to have come so far, only to turn back, does not sit well with me. But I gave him my word..."

There was a dangerous sort of glint in Kili's eyes, one that Thorin had learned not to trust. "Let Fili and I stay here," he said softly.

Thorin stared. "No."

"Wait, just listen." Kili was pale, his arms looped protectively around his older brother. "If Fi and I stay, then we won't be breaking your word. We'll wait until he's healed up, and then we'll kill the dragon and save Bilbo. He won't be expecting us at all. We could _do_ it, Thorin."

Thorin was quiet for a long moment, assessing the pros and cons. Normally he would not even consider such an idea, but these were desperate times and Fili needed rest.

"I cannot allow you to challenge Smaug," he said finally. "The odds aren't in your favor, whether you surprise him or not."

"But-" Kili tried to interrupt, but Thorin held up a hand and he fell silent again.

"I know you want Fili safe, but so do I, Kili. I want both of you safe. I will not allow you to be so foolhardy." Thorin rested a hand on Kili's shoulder. "We'll go as slowly as we need to and stop in Lake-town for Fili."

Kili didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally he looked up at his uncle. "You're giving up on Erebor?" he asked, his tone accusing. "On Bilbo?"

That stung. "What choice do I have, Kili?" Thorin shot back, keeping his voice low. There was no reason for the others to hear this. "If we don't agree to the dragon's terms, we will all be killed and the royal line of Durin broken. We did not plan this carefully enough and I will not allow any more lives to be lost than necessary."

But Kili was still shaking his head, his gaze turning hard. One hand tightened around Fili's most prominent braid. "Then what was it all _for_? What does Bilbo's sacrifice mean, or Fili's?" His breath came fast, tears starting in his eyes again. "He's never going to walk properly, Thorin! And for what, for us to just...give up?"

Kili shook his head again, glaring at his uncle with such ferocity that it surprised Thorin. Kili had never looked at him like that, not even once.

"It's got to mean something. It _has_ to. Maybe you can give up, but I can't. Not when Fili's..." He swallowed hard, forcing the next word out. "_Crippled._"

The accusation and hurt in Kili's tone struck Thorin to the very core. Pushing himself to his feet, he squeezed Kili's shoulder briefly. "I'm just trying to protect you both," he said quietly, and walked away.

Kili shuddered and hung his head, trying his best not to burst into tears in front of everyone. But Fili, crippled for life now...at best he would have a limp, but if the bones didn't set like they were supposed to, his leg could end up completely useless. Until they got to Lake-town or somewhere similar, where the healers had all the proper materials they needed, they couldn't be sure that Fili's leg had been set correctly, and by that point it would be too late.

Kili's shoulders started to shake and he gripped Fili's braid tighter in his hand, tears spilling down his cheeks. He couldn't let this happen for nothing. He _couldn't_. He loved Fili more fiercely than anything in the world, and seeing him hurt was agonizing.

It wasn't Thorin's fault that Fili was hurt. No, Kili blamed himself for that. What he did blame Thorin for was not giving them a chance to avenge Fili's injury. He understood why Thorin had made the decision he had, that he'd chosen the lives of the Company over Erebor, but a fire burned in Kili's heart. Someone had to _pay_ for what had happened to his brother.

A surprisingly soft hand on his shoulder made Kili blink and look up. Bilbo sat beside him, giving him a small, sad smile and gently mopping away the dwarf's tears with his sleeve. Kili had heard stories of the dragonspell and what it could do to someone, how it could bend a person completely into something they weren't, but this was so clearly the hobbit that Kili knew and adored.

His eyes filled with moisture again, angry and sad all at the same time, and he let his head drop to rest on Bilbo's shoulder, hiding his face in the halfling's neck. Small fingers stroked through Kili's dark hair, smoothing out the tangles, and the young dwarf cried in earnest. He cried for Fili's leg, for losing Erebor, for the final sacrifice the hobbit was about to make for the Company.

The other dwarves kept a respectful distance, though they too mourned for what was to come.


End file.
